


Too bright to see

by ScQ



Category: Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21849220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScQ/pseuds/ScQ
Summary: Months ago, Will woke up to find himself in Storybrooke without his wife, and without memories of how he got there. And now, he might finally have a chance to return home.
Relationships: Knave of Hearts | Will Scarlet/Red Queen | Anastasia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Too bright to see

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alphayamergo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphayamergo/gifts).



“Nearly done,” said Belle, swirling the potion around in an antique flask as she stepped into the public portion of Gold’s shop. Will stood up from where he had been leaning against the counter. “See how much simpler it is when you work with me and not behind my back?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It is a lot easier; I have to admit,” Will said. It was the truth: Belle had found the exact artifact he had spent weeks trying to find in a matter of minutes. She’d also known -- and had all the ingredients for -- the potion that needed to be made inside of it. “And again, I am sorry about that.”

“Really? You hadn’t said,” Belle said with dry amusement.

Will had woken up in his old Storybrooke apartment about six months ago with a few chunks of Wonderland mushrooms, a Looking Glass that didn’t work and no recollection of how he got there. He didn’t know what had happened or why, but he knew he had to find a way back. For a while, he had no idea where to even begin with that, and then he heard of a magical solution. A thousand year old flask that was spellbound to, under the right conditions, transcend realms to reunite lost loved ones. Regardless of what had happened to Wonderland, this was his best chance of getting back to the realm -- or at least back to Ana.

He came to find out this flask was in Gold’s possession and, after a careful consideration of his options, decided he would do what he did best and steal it. As for Belle, she was recently separated, the current owner of the pawn shop, and believed the best in people. She seemed like a good way to gain access to the shop. He figured it was harmless -- get her coffee, go on a few lunch dates, and root around the pawn shop the minute she left him alone in it.

Will hadn’t expected that she would help him merely out of the goodness of her heart when he had no money or talent to offer in exchange, but that’s exactly what she did when he finally came clean. She’d been a little pissed, and rightfully so, but his story won her over eventually and thank fuck for that, because he definitely wouldn’t have gotten this far without her.

“This will open a portal that will allow you to reconnect with Anastasia, wherever she is,” Belle explained, holding up the potion in the flask. “The last step: we have to pour it over something that belongs to both of you.”

“Oh, okay.” Will blinked slowly, trying to recall something he had on hand that would fit that criteria. “Umm… right, so the problem is, I’m not sure I have anything that belongs to us both. Not in Storybrooke I mean.”

“Are you sure? Magic like this is very open-ended; surely there’s something that would work,” said Belle. Will frowned and glanced away from Belle, trying to recall the items he had in his apartment. He thought back to his life during the first curse. 

\--------

Will drew her when he was drunk. He sat at the kitchen table in his flat, pen in hand, preparing to make the first stroke. His hand throbbed a little from punching a hole in the wall earlier in the evening -- an attempt to relieve the frustration that came from living alone in the cozy, cursed town of Storybrooke. The pain was easy enough to ignore, though, given the amount of alcohol in his veins. He tightened his fingers around the pen.

It was easy to sketch her from memory; she was still burned inside his brain. He could see her on a windy day in Sherwood, blonde hair hopelessly messy and blowing in front of her face, gray eyes peeking out from under it, smiling, laughing. Will drew that image on a sheet of copy paper.

He remembered nearly every second of that day. Hushing her as he helped her climb out the window of her mother’s house in the morning. The way she scoffed and told him she didn’t care about the consequences -- in a tone that was hardly more than a whisper. Running away from the house, giddy with nervousness and excitement, their fingers interlocked and the wind in their faces until they had to stop for breath. They collapsed in a field full of bees and wildflowers. Ana wanted to make flower crowns, and Will wanted to do what Ana was doing.

Will took another can of beer out of the cardboard box beside him, opened it and set it down on the counter behind him. He leaned closer to the paper as he shaded the flowers in her hair. In his mind, they were orange and blue. But all he had in his flat were pens, so black and white would have to do. He could feel grass beneath him as they talked about nothing, made love and chased each other around the field like children until dark.

“I have to go home,” she said from inside Will’s arms as they watched the sun disappear below the flowers.

“You don’t have to,” Will said, dreamily. Ana sighed, her bare feet brushing against Will’s calves and her hair tickling his neck as she slowly collected herself and stood up.

“Mum’s gonna be pissed,” she grumbled as she brushed bits of grass and dirt off her dress. “I’ve never been gone the whole day, and she’s already suspicious--”

“You don’t have to go.” Will sat up. He blinked the growing sleepiness out of his eyes. She paused, smiled down at him sadly. He needed an excuse for her to stay, so he said, “We haven’t named the stars yet.” He nodded to the sky, where the brightest of the stars had already begun to appear.

Ana scrunched up her face, looking mostly amused and a bit impatient. “Prob’ly already got names,” she said. Will mimicked the face she was making. She laughed and kicked him. “Tomorrow?”

“Alright,” he said with a sigh of defeat. He looked up at her with wide eyes and a soft smile. “Tomorrow.”

Will tossed the pen onto the table and sat back. He felt around for his drink on the counter and took a swing of it. His eyes moved across the drawing; he had felt so much that day: anticipation, exhilaration, adoration, happiness, sadness, love. He felt none of that now -- not even a sting of nostalgia as he stared at the picture in front of him. This apathy was, of course, thanks to the removal of his heart from his chest. The chest he kept it in now was the wooden box that the Queen of Hearts had stored it in (which, at the moment, was at the bottom of a pile of laundry in his bedroom, glowing a bright red with each pulse of his heart).

He took another sip of beer, swooshing it around his mouth as he took the paper in his hands and methodically tore it into four pieces. He swallowed and stood up, then walked to the coffee table and swiped his lighter off a stack of magazines. Holding the corners of the ripped Anastasia sketch to the flame, Will watched the pieces catch fire before tossing it in his trash bin.

A fresh sheet of paper remained on his made-for-one kitchen table -- Will eyed it as he strolled back towards it and sat down again. He cleared his throat, picturing Ana staring forward with her chin up, hair spun neatly on top of her head, lips curled upwards, just a bit, her eyes cold.

He clicked the pen off and on again, setting the tip to the blank page. Smoke from the burning sketch filled his nostrils and wafted up towards the ceiling. No matter. He’d dismantled the smoke detector years ago.

He drew the outline of her face in soft, fast strokes, then up to do her hair.

“Why are you here?” the sketch was saying to him, over and over again like an echo. Will shook his head and finished it quickly. A simple line drawing of the Queen. There. That was how he wanted to remember her. Not as the kind-hearted, passionate, lively girl from Sherwood, but as the cold, cruel, beautiful Queen of Wonderland. It was just the right size to cover the hole in the wall, he thought. But he had a better idea.

Holding the sketch in one hand, he walked to the pile of clothes in his bedroom and dug out the glowing box. Then he took both items over to the hole in the wall and crouched down in front of it. The box he placed gently inside the wall. He would get it sealed inside the wall at some point, but for now, Ana would serve as its only protector.

Will’s hands smoothed the paper out in front of the hole. He glanced around for tape and, after finding none, reached for two of the darts he had strewn about on the coffee table. He used them to pin the top two corners of the page to the wall, covering the box’s hiding place. Would make a good dart board, actually, once the hole’s sealed over.

\----

“It’s… nice,” said Belle, looking down at the line portrait of Queen Anastasia that she held in her hands. Tiny holes dotted the page from the many drunken games of darts Will had played during his first stay in Storybrooke. Belle turned her gaze to Will’s apartment wall, which, once again, had a large hole in it. “What happened here?”

“It’s a long story,” Will answered, then added for clarification purposes, “Was a scavenger hunt, sort of.”

Belle hummed, looking back down at the drawing. “Are you sure this is the closest thing you have to an item that belongs to the both of you?”

“You said it’s an open-ended sort of requirement, yeah?” Will asked.

“Well, yes, it is, but this…” Belle trailed off, looking thoughtful. “It seems more like it belongs only to you. I mean, has she ever even seen it?”

“No, but it’s her -- it’s a drawing of her -- a memory I have of her. Doesn’t that at least half-way count?”

“We can try it, if it’s all you have,” Belle said, but she didn’t seem very convinced. Will groaned and tossed his head up towards the ceiling. “Is this all you’ve got, Will?”

Will chewed on his lip, trying to think of something better. His flat was full of various objects, appliances and decorations, but it was all stuff from here in Storybrooke. None of it was from Sherwood, or Wonderland, and none of it belonged to Anastasia. He now regretted throwing out the Wonderlandian clothes he’d arrived here in -- they were from the palace; they might have worked. He thought of the Alice in Wonderland book he’d nicked from the library, or the illustration of the Red Queen he’d torn out of it. But that was the same problem as with the make-shift dartboard Belle was holding. All he had was drawings. Nothing real.

His eyes drifted to the metal trash bin. At the bottom of it, he knew without looking in, a layer of gray soot still dusted the edges from everything he’d burned over those 28 years. He thought again about that picture of her smiling in the wildflower field, thought about that sunset they’d watched together.

\-----

“Alright. Tomorrow,” said Will.

Ana gave him one last smile before she turned to go. “Ana,” he said, leaning back onto his elbows. She turned around and he pointed to her head. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as she remembered, reaching for the flower crown Will had made her that morning. She took it off, held it in her hands for a moment. “Hold onto it for me?” she asked, offering it out.

He took the crown from her, putting it on top of the one he was already wearing (a messy clump of purple and yellow flowers Ana had designed). “How do I look?” he asked.

“Dashing,” she said. Her eyes glowed affectionately and she stooped down to kiss him once more. She probably meant the exchange to be just a brief peck, but when their lips met she didn’t pull away. Still lying half-way propped on his elbow, Will brought his other hand to Ana’s cheek. She felt so warm against him, but not nearly close enough. Gently, he guided her back down to the grass, still lip-locked in a lazy, easygoing kiss.

“Suppose I could stay a little while longer,” Anastasia murmured into Will’s mouth before settling into him.

“Anastasia,” Will said. He sunk into the grass, one hand behind his head and the other around Ana’s shoulder.

“Hm?”

“That one’s name.” He nodded up towards the sky; Ana lifted her head and followed his gaze.

“Which one?” she asked.

Will pointed with his finger this time. “That one. The big one.”

“In that triangle of littler stars?” She sounded very sleepy all of a sudden. Her head fell back onto his chest and she yawned. Will yawned too. She was very contagious.

“Yep, that one. That’s Anastasia.”

She was quiet and Will wondered if she was already asleep. Finally, she said very slowly, “And the one above it?”

Will thought for a moment, trying to come up with another name. Maybe it was because he was half-asleep and foggy-minded, but he couldn’t think of another name that deserved to be up there. “Anastasia,” he concluded eventually.

She chuckled drowsily, wriggling closer him. “They can’t both be Anastasia.”

“They can,” Will argued. He closed his eyes. “They are. Your turn.”

“‘Kay,” Ana said. “Mm, that one’s… Clover.”

Will opened one eye, frowning and lifting his head slightly to look at Ana, feigning disapproval. _“Clover?"_ he said incredulously. "Right, well if you’re not gonna to take this seriously…” She giggled and kicked him lightly. “Ow!”

Ana turned her body to look at him through playful eyes. She propped her chin on his chest. “Yeah, and what would you name it, then?” she asked, sounding a lot more awake now.

“Easy,” said Will. He grinned. "Anastasia."

\------

“New stars,” Anastasia commented, many nights later. They sat huddled in front of a fire somewhere in Wonderland, sharing a raggedy blanket. She was shivering and Will wanted to give her every bit of heat he had. He didn't have enough heat to give her. The fire and the blanket and his arms around her would have to do.

“Same names, though,” he said.

“You think they mind, all having the same name?” she asked.

“No, they don’t mind.”

“But wouldn’t it get confusing?”

“No. They don’t mind,” he repeated, pulling her closer and kissing her cheek. She grinned and went quiet, and they both watched as the smoke rose over the fire and into the sky.

\-------

Months after that, he was sitting in the courtyard of the Hearts Castle when he heard her voice. The first time he’d heard it since he’d become a Knave and her a Queen. It was so strange and familiar his heart might’ve stopped if it were still in his chest.

“Your Majesty?” she called into the open air. “Cora?”

Will was silent; he hoped she would turn around and leave without seeing him. But he wanted to see her. He inhaled, turning his head and leaning forward without getting up from the bench he was on. The movement caught her eye right as he caught sight of her.

She froze. Will stiffened, too, bracing for emotions to come rushing back. Seconds passed; he still felt nothing but resentment. That going heartless trick really worked, it seemed. He took this moment of silence to look her over. She looked like an entirely different person. It wasn’t just the wealth -- although the form-fitting red dress, the finely spun hair and the crown of red jewels glittering atop her head were certainly new touches -- it was the way she was standing, the look in her eye, the tightness of her jaw. Barely three months since the last time he’d held her and now she was a stranger.

The Red Queen shook her head, found her voice again and said, “I was looking for…” She paused. “Sorr- why are you here?”

That’s a new accent. What, was she trying to sound posh? It wasn’t working. Sounded just as fake as everything else about this new alias of hers. Will sneered, his gaze moving back to her eyes, scathing. The Queen flinched visibly, and Will realized he had never looked at her like that before. Hatefully. How was he supposed to look at her, though, after what she’d done? He’d given her all of him, every shred of love in his being, and she’d only chewed him up and spat him out the moment she found someone better. Should he not hate her for that?

“Will-”

“I live here,” Will said, cutting her off. “Haven’t you heard? I’m Her Majesty’s Knave of Hearts.”

The Queen seemed to be trying very hard to control the emotions on her face, but she was shit at it. Her eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise. The silence before she spoke was nearly painful. She raised her chin, her expression becoming adequately detached. Alright. A little more practice and maybe she’d actually be able to pull off this stone-faced-Queen facade.

“I -- heard she had a new Knave,” she said carefully, then a little quieter, “I didn’t know it was you.”

“Well, now you know.” Will’s tone was dismissive. He wanted her to go, because he couldn’t stop staring at her; he couldn’t ignore her like he wanted to. He couldn’t stop the memories of Anastasia playing through his head, even if they had no meaning anymore. Anastasia was dead, he kept telling himself, long live the Queen.

She nodded along; she was pale, her eyes big: she looked like she might cry. Will’s first urge, even now, was to comfort her, and his second was fuck that. She broke his heart, left him standing outside the Red Castle for hours, waiting for her, worrying about her, like an idiot, let him cry himself to sleep every night for weeks. All while she was living it up with the Wonderland elites, going to fancy parties, fucking the King -- he probably never even crossed her mind. And now, what did she expect? For him to act like they were still friends? No, fuck that.

He narrowed his eyes, sitting up straighter and giving her a tight, cold-eyed smile. “Something I can do for you, Your Majesty?”

The Red Queen closed her eyes. She took a breath before she opened them again, but this time she didn’t look at him. “Cora?” she asked.

“In the drawing room,” he said. He kept his eyes trained on her as she dipped her head slightly and left the courtyard quickly. The two guards she’d left at the door -- he hadn’t even noticed -- followed after her and then Will was alone again. He took a breath in and let it go audibly, setting his head back against the cold stone wall behind him and looking up at the stars. Her stars.

\-------

They trailed behind Alice and Cyrus on their walk back to the Outlands. The reunited lovers -- Alice and Cyrus, that is -- were holding hands, whispering to each other and exchanging adoring glances. Anastasia was holding the genie’s bottle and Will was rubbing the golden cuffs on his wrists, wishing very much that they would all fuck off: the cuffs, Alice and Cyrus, Anastasia…

As they got further from the village, the smoke from the fireworks thinned and stars dotted the sky. They seemed particularly bright tonight. Will sighed, pausing a moment to look up at them. He refused to look at Ana directly, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see her doing the same thing -- looking up to the sky. Then over at him. Thinking the same thing.

\---------

“No, actually,” Will said abruptly, pulling himself out of his thoughts and turning back to face Belle. “I think I can do you one better.”

Belle raised her eyebrows quizzically and Will nodded to the door. “Right, follow me.”

He walked out of the apartment hurriedly and into the chilly, Maine, nighttime air. He went down the stairs and past the parking lot behind the apartment complex, finally stepping out into an open field of mostly dead grass, plastic bags and paper cups. Porch lights off of a nearby house gave off an unfriendly glare, but Will could still see the sky. He heard crunchy footsteps behind him as Belle followed him, her huffs as she stepped into the field. He turned around and she looked at him expectantly.

“Okay,” Will said, nodding. “Do it here.”

Belle raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You need something that belongs to her -- belongs to us? Nearly every night we were together, we’d lie out under the stars and name them,” Will explained. Belle looked skeptical, crossing her arms. Will shook his head, continued, “I’m not sayin’ we own the stars, but the memories we have, we made them out here under ‘em, and those are ours. That’s gotta be something, right?” It had better be something, because that was the only idea he had.

Belle blinked, then nodded slowly. “It’s a bit of a stretch, but actually that… that could work.”

“Try it.”

“Okay. Ready?”

Will nodded. He watched as she unscrewed the cap and the contents inside hissed. They both held their breath, and Belle tossed the liquid into the air.

\-------

Will found her on the balcony, nearly a year ago, curled up and sleeping on a chair with her head resting against the railing. He knelt down in front of her, a deep love and affection etched in his features as he looked at her. “Ana,” he whispered, rubbing her arm. Her eyes blinked open, they focused on him and she smiled drowsily. She stretched out, sighed.

“Welcome home, ambassador,” she said in a dim voice. “How’d it go?”

“King Ivan’s a prick,” he replied, matching her tone.

“I know.” She put her head back on the railing as a breeze blew her blonde hair against her cheek.

“I didn’t. So, that was disappointing,” Will mused, his soft gaze watching as she tried not to fall back asleep. “Spades Territory was beautiful though. There’s so much green over -- deep shades of it, too.” He’d been gone for a little over a week, discussing policies and concerns with the King and Queen of Spades while Anastasia attended to her Queenly responsibilities here.

“Hmm,” she muttered as she finally lost the fight to keep her eyes open. From where he was crouched looking up at her, the stars and moons all shone brightly in the sky behind her. And Ana, dressed in whites and golds, dozing and peaceful -- she looked like she belonged up there, too.

“D’you wanna talk in the morning, love?” he asked. She didn’t respond. “Ana?”

“I’m awake,” she mumbled, lifting her head with slow, exaggerated effort. Will chuckled and shook his head. He stood up and gathered her in his arms, carrying her to their bed.

\-------

The blue potion went up in the air as Belle threw it, and disappeared before gravity could pull it back down again. Will watched, his tongue on the roof of his mouth. The seconds passed like a lifetime before the sky lit up and what he assumed was a portal of some kind opened up, white and flashing.

It looked promising, but he really wasn’t sure what he was looking at. “Did it work, then?” he asked, casting a glance at Belle.

Belle was smiling. “Yeah. Yeah, it worked,” she said. “Good thinking.”

“So --”

“Go home, Will,” said Belle, a warm look in her eyes.

“Hey. Thank you,” he said, earnestly. She smiled back at him and he nodded once more before turning his attention to the portal. He took deep breaths for courage, flexing and curling his fingers a few times before he stepped through.

His skin tingled, and he squinted, struggling to see until the light dimmed and he focused on a pair of gray eyes, so familiar they might as well be his own, glowing like clouds over a night sky.


End file.
